


writing something new in this home i've found

by chahakyn



Series: now i’m no longer alone (a 5, 6, 7 friendship series) [6]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, No Incest, Sibling Bonding, Spirited Away AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26610715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chahakyn/pseuds/chahakyn
Summary: “When you meet Reginald, you can’t show any weakness,” Five says as they make their way down the stairs. “He will ask you questions, he will intimidate you, and hewillthreaten you.”“Can he actually hurt me?” Vanya asks, trailing her fingers down the polished bannister as she glances at Five. He shrugs.“Yes. Is he likely to? Possibly. If you prove yourself to be useful enough, then no.”--When Vanya stumbles through a portal and into the dangerously strange world of the Umbrella Academy, she has to use her wits and perseverance (along with a little help from Five and Ben) to survive.(A Spirited Away AU)
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Ben Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: now i’m no longer alone (a 5, 6, 7 friendship series) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900036
Comments: 49
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> saw [ this amazing art](https://www.instagram.com/p/B4-WZQkFtl4/?igshid=1n1nxz88dylqq) and then my brain just exploded with ideas
> 
> just a heads up, this story will be very, _very_ loosely following the plot of Spirited Away by Hayao Miyazaki. no prior knowledge of the movie is needed to enjoy this!
> 
> fic title adapted from the lyrics of [ Tailwhip](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nt5JZL_21u0) by Men I Trust

Vanya’s eyes narrow as she regards the small rock sitting innocently on the sidewalk. She takes a step forward. And then another. And another. She draws her leg back—

The pebble goes skittering down the sidewalk, hopping over a few cracks before leaping into the gutter. Vanya huffs in annoyance, adjusting her the strap of her violin case against her shoulder before continuing on. The wind rushes around her, twirling the ends of her hair into the air before whisking away in a rush of cold. Vanya shivers, bringing her hands up to rub her arms.

“Should’ve worn the jacket,” she mutters wryly to herself, ducking her head to avoid the wind. Her eyes catch a flash of movement in the window and she frowns, squinting. It appears to be a man, chin tucked into the collar of his coat as he glances around. He shifts his weight, gripping the top of a rather large suitcase before dragging it away.

Vanya tilts her head, brow furrowing as she turns away from the window to watch him hurry down the street. There’s something wrong with the suitcase, bulging in odd places as it bounces against the sidewalk. She carefully crosses the street, tailing the man a safe distance away. There’s just something about the suitcase that doesn’t sit well with her—

Her eyes widen as she sees a few fingers wiggling out of the side of suitcase, struggling to push the zipper down. There’s someone _in there_.

“Sir? Sir, please stop!” Vanya calls out, breaking into a run. But the man doesn’t respond, walking even faster. He suddenly takes a sharp turn, disappearing down a side alley. Vanya follows, stumbling on the slick stone as she takes the corner. She catches herself on the wall, looking up just in time to see the man disappear. _Into_ the alley wall.

“ _What_?” Vanya scrambles up to the wall, looking it over. It seems normal and solid, as far as she can tell. She glances around before tentatively pressing her palm to the wall, yelping as her hand moves through the stone, sinking into it.

Vanya takes a few deep breaths, steeling herself before pushing through the wall. She stumbles, falling onto the floor of another similar-looking alleyway. Vanya clambers to her feet, turning to examine the door behind her. Her hand meets solid metal when she tries to push through it. Vanya tries to jiggle the handle, huffing in frustration as it stays firmly locked. She looks away, the building at the end of the alley suddenly catching her eye.

It’s a towering manor, grander than any building she’s ever seen in her little suburb. It’s all intimidating enough that she chooses to wander away from the main entrance and down the side of the building instead, covered in neatly manicured flora and fauna. Vanya runs her fingers atop the bushes as she walks past, humming as she feels soft flower petals brushing her hand.

The side of the house is more manageable, at least. No ornate wooden doors and heavy wrought iron gates here, just bins of gardening tools and bags of soil. And…a small side door.

Vanya weaves her way around the garden supplies, attempting to peer into the building through the glass. But they seem to be covered by paper on the inside. She jiggles the handles experimentally, inhaling in surprise as the door creaks open with minimal persuasion.

With a counter to her right and little café-like chairs stacked to her left, the entrance to this room feels like the remnants of a bygone store. The room opens further into what seems to be a kitchen area, a table large enough to seat eight dominating the room sitting next a fridge and a sink. Vanya steps further in, peering at the yellowed posters and notices papering the walls.

“You shouldn’t be here!” Someone hisses at her.

Vanya whips around, fingers biting into the strap of her violin case as sees a boy standing by the table. He shakes his head at her before pointing at the door.

“Where am I?” Vanya asks, stepping forward cautiously.

He shakes his head again, growling in frustration as he walks over to her in a few quick strides. Vanya lets out a surprised squeak as he grabs her arms.

“You _have_ to leave,” he says urgently. Vanya feels her teeth click together as he shakes her slightly. He lets go of her and she stumbles back, giving him a frightened look.

“Go. _Now_.” He reaches forward, pushing her towards the door with an insistent look.

Vanya grasps the door handle, bolting out. She glances back over her shoulder to see him watching her leave, stance tense as his fingers worry at the sleeves of his uniform blazer. She shivers as she runs back to the alleyway, the wind whipping around her. That boy sounded scared; and not just scared for himself, but her. Whatever this place is, Vanya knows that she doesn’t want to stay here any longer. She needs to get back _now—_

Vanya freezes, eyes widening as she takes in the alleyway before her. It looks exactly the same as before, save for the fact that the door is _gone_.

“No. No, no, _no_ , it must be here!” Vanya rushes forward, pressing her fingers against the stone. They remain in place, cold and unyielding. She lets out a straggled noise, digging her fingers into the crevices around the rocks before resorting to desperately pounding the wall with her fists.

Nothing changes.

Vanya staggers back, clutching the strap of her violin case as she stares at the wall. _This can’t be happening._

She turns away from the manor and sprints down the alleyway, trying to get away. But she meets an invisible barrier, stopping her in her tracks. Vanya lets out a frustrated scream, slamming her hand against the invisible wall, trying desperately to find her away around it. But the wall stays solid, somehow, trapping her in this strange, unfriendly place.

Vanya sinks to the floor in shock, back pressed against the wall as she wraps her arms around her knees. She glares at the towering manor. It looks even more unwelcoming now, bearing down on her along with the cold wind that sweeps through the alleyway, biting her skin through the thin material of her sweater.

Her heart races frantically as the sky slowly begins to dim. She can’t escape the manor, but she can’t go in either. Maybe she just needs to stay put. If she stays, the door will appear again. It’s her only hope.

Vanya bites her lip as hot tears begins to helplessly roll down her cheek. She pushes them away with the heels of her hand before succumbing, burying her face into her arms and letting the tears soak into the sleeves of her sweater until there are no more left to cry. Vanya shudders, bracing herself against the wind that grows stronger as the sky dims in color. Maybe she’ll never get back.

Vanya’s fingers clench, digging into her palms. She shouldn’t have followed the man, she should have just kept walking right on home. Her parents always said she was too curious, too helpful for her own good. And they were right. She should have _listened_ —

Footsteps. Coming towards her. Vanya peeks over her arm, tensing as she sees the boy from earlier walking towards her. She draws her sweater tighter around herself before she raises her head, regarding the boy as calmly as she can.

“You’re still here,” he says, tucking his hands behind his back as he stands above her.

“I can’t get back. The door, it’s—it’s gone,” Vanya stammers out through the chattering of her teeth. The boy crouches down, looking at her intently. He looks to be the same age as her, but Vanya feels younger under his stare, somehow, as if he had to grow up faster than someone their age should.

He says nothing to her.

“Please,” Vanya whispers, reaching out and grasping the lapel of his blazer with trembling fingers. “Please help me.”

The boy inhales through his teeth, a low hissing sound cutting through the silence before he lets out a heavy sigh. He reaches up to cover her hand with his.

“Fine. Come with me.” He pulls her up, looking her up and down before turning on his heel and walking away. Vanya hurries after him, barely keeping up as they march up the steps to the main entrance.

He stops with his hand on the doorknob, looking down at her.

“Stay close. And call me Six.” And without any warning, he pushes the door open and strides into the manor, all hesitation and fear gone. Vanya walks as close to him as she can, eyes widening as she takes in the tall ceilings, dark wood paneling, and very expensive looking paintings adorning the wall. All in all, it’s one of the biggest and also most expensive-looking places she’s stepped foot in, making the entire experience even more intimidating.

“Don’t slouch,” Six mutters out of the corner of his mouth. “Walk like you belong here.”

Vanya takes a deep breath and straightens, glancing up at Six for approval. He doesn’t say anything, instead increasing his pace at the sight of another boy in uniform.

“Five.” He waves to the boy. “If I could borrow you for a moment?”

Five saunters over, giving Six a wry smile. His gaze suddenly falls upon Vanya, eyes widening as he looks her up and down. Six reaches out to grip Five’s arm, giving him a pointed look. Five meets his gaze, and Vanya can tell they’re having a rather intense, silent argument, judging by the heat of Five’s stare.

After a few moments, Five lets out a scathing noise and grabs both Six and Vanya’s arms. And suddenly, the space around them is being tugged _inward_ , everything twisting and warping before morphing into a kaleidoscope of fractured blue light. Vanya opens her mouth to scream as she feels herself being compressed by the tightening pressure around them all.

And then suddenly, the pressure releases, like a valve opening. A new room reforms around her, everything around her straightening into its rightful size and shape. Vanya slumps weakly onto a solid, wooden floor, letting out choked gasps as she clutches her chest.

“What have you _done_? She’s not supposed to be here!”

Vanya looks up with watery eyes to see Five pointing violently at Vanya. But his gaze isn’t on her; it’s trained on Six, who leans calmly against a desk. Even from this distance, Vanya can feel Five’s fury.

“She came in through one of the temp doors and she couldn’t get back. I had to help her.”

“Ben, you know what happens when we break the rules,” Five snaps, the energy around him seeming to crackle as he gets up in Six’s (Ben, his name is Ben) face.

“I’m not going to just _leave_ her for one of Dad’s guests to use as some lab rat,” Ben says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t want to be more complacent in this than we already are.”

Five’s lips curl into snarl.

“You’re jeopardizing us even more by doing this.”

“If you want her out then _you_ take her to Dad,” Ben says, jabbing his finger Five’s chest before gesturing at Vanya. Five turns to look at her. His gaze lingers, scanning Vanya with a rather frightening intensity that makes Vanya feel uncomfortably seen. His head tilts, blue eyes cool and observant, before mouth twists down in a frustrated frown.

“Fuck you,” he hisses, turning back to Ben. “If Dad finds out, it’ll be _your_ fault.”

“I can live with that.” Ben’s posture relaxes slightly as he rests his hand on Five’s shoulder. They exchange a wordless look before Five brushes Ben’s hand off, turning away and stalking over to Vanya.

“You,” he says, thrusting his finger into her face, “are here by my brother’s good graces. If you become anymore of a threat to our safety than you already are, I will _not_ hesitate to eliminate you. Do you understand?”

Vanya inhales unsteadily, gaze darting over Five’s shoulder to settle on Ben. Ben rolls his eyes before giving her an encouraging nod.

“Y—yes, I understand,” Vanya says, looking back at Five.

“Good. Name?”

“Vanya.”

“Alright Vanya,” Five says before letting out an irritated sigh. He grabs the chair behind him and pulls it up, settling himself in it.

“Listen very closely. You are at the Umbrella Academy, a laboratory and training facility for supernatural children. It’s run by Reginald Hargreeves, our adoptive father. The methods behind your arrival are unclear, but,” Five declares, waving his hand, “we can think more about that later. Right now, we need to figure out how to keep you around.”

“What he’s getting at is that you need a job,” Ben says quickly.

Vanya recoils. “A job?”

“The only way you can safely stay here is by contributing meaningfully to this household. Unless you’d rather be a test subject in Dad’s little experiments?” Five arches a brow, humming as Vanya shakes her head weakly. “Didn’t think so. Now…” Five leans forward, pinning Vanya with a look. “What can you do?”

“I can, uh, play the violin? I’m good with reading, writing.” Vanya twists her fingers together nervously. “I, ah, speak Russian?”

Five’s eyes narrow. “Are you obedient? Detail-oriented? Adaptable? Organized?”

“I—I suppose so?” Vanya says, shrugging helplessly.

“Dad’s personal assistant?” Ben gives Five a considering look. “He does seem to need one. For the more menial tasks like recording our test results.”

Five nods, snapping his fingers at Ben.

“Exactly what I was thinking.” He turns back to Vanya. “Do you think you do that?”

“I can do my best.”

“Good enough.” He turns in his seat, disappearing in a flash of blue and reappearing at the desk. Vanya gasps, watching Five with wide eyes as he rifles through a drawer.

“So, you all have powers,” she says feebly.

“Yup.” Ben pops the “p”, shooting Vanya a smile. “We can tell you more later.”

“Yes, no time for that now.” Five materializes in front of Vanya, ignoring her full-body flinch as he tosses a notebook and pen at her. “You need to write down everything you can possibly remember about how your life was before you came here.”

Vanya flips through the notebook, rolling the pen between her fingers. “Why?”

“If Dad takes you in, if it works…” Ben pauses, glancing at Five before swallowing nervously. “There’s a very high chance that he will force you to relinquish your memories of your past.”

Vanya head whips up. “ _What_?”

“Yeah.” Ben shifts his weight, avoiding Vanya’s gaze. “All six of us had our memories taken. The only reason I remember my name and some of my past is because Five got me to write it all down beforehand. I’m the only lucky one, so far.”

“That’s why you keep calling him Five, instead of…” Vanya trails off, paling. “Sorry.”

Five waves his hand carelessly. “It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

Vanya nods jerkily, moving to the desk and frantically beginning to write. Ben glances up at the clock and starts.

“Shit, I’m due at an examination in a minute.” He stands, turning to Five. “Can you take her to Dad?”

Five snorts, giving Ben an unimpressed look. Ben frowns.

“Please?”

They stare at each other for a few tense moments, accompanied only by the sound of their breathing and the scratch of pen against paper. And then Five sighs, nodding.

“Fine. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Ben claps Five on the shoulder, shooting Vanya a smile before quickly departing.

And then Vanya writes. And writes and writes and writes until her hand is cramping and six sides of paper have been filled.

As she puts the pen down and looks up, Five snatches the notebook, skimming its contents.

“That should be plenty to jog your memory. Nice handwriting, by the way.” He snaps it shut, placing it carefully back in the drawer before beckoning her to follow him.

“When you meet Reginald, you can’t show any weakness,” Five says as they make their way down the stairs. “He will ask you questions, he will intimidate you, and he _will_ threaten you.”

“Can he actually hurt me?” Vanya asks, trailing her fingers down the polished bannister as she glances at Five. He shrugs.

“Yes. Is he likely to? Possibly. If you prove yourself to be useful enough, then no.”

Vanya nods dumbly, heart pounding in her chest as she follows Five through a confusing set of corridors and doorways. As Five’s pace begins to slow, Vanya looks up to find him watching her. His expression softens for a moment before he speaks.

“Keep saying that you want to work here,” he says almost gently, before his face quickly tightens back to its normal cool composure. “If you’re going to survive here, you need to learn to stand your ground. If he ends up letting you stay.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Five grimaces. “Let’s just say it will end badly for all of us.” He suddenly extends his hand in front of Vanya to stop her. She turns, coming face to face with a rather imposing set of large, lacquered wood doors. “Are you ready for this?”

Vanya opens her mouth hesitantly, only to be cut off by the wave of Five’s hand.

“It doesn’t matter, you’ll never be truly ready. Might as well get it over with.”

He cracks the door open enough for Vanya to slip through, nudging her forward. Vanya walks in, turning and trying to catch Five’s eye. But all she sees is the door shutting silently behind her, locking her onto this path. Vanya sighs, tiptoeing forward.

An older man with severe expression on his face sits at a large desk, light periodically reflecting off his monocle as he writes incessantly in a book. This must be Reginald Hargreeves.

Vanya shuffles her feet and lets out a quiet cough, but he gives no indication of having seen or heard her.

“Excuse me?” Vanya says hesitantly, twisting her fingers together.

“What is it?” Reginald still refuses to look up, pen skating across the paper rapid-fire.

“I would like to work here.”

At that, Reginald’s head finally raises, his brow furrowing as his gaze focuses on Vanya.

“Who are you? How did you get here?”

“Please, I would like a job here,” Vanya repeats, fisting her hands at her sides to stop herself from fidgeting.

“Do you have any idea where you are? And who I am?” Reginald stands, thrusting his pen to the side. “I have no need for you or your petty requests.”

Vanya winces. “Please, I would like to work here for you—"

“You would not survive a day here,” Reginald says firmly, stepping out from behind his desk and waking slowly towards her. “You are weak. You are pathetic.” He punctuates every statement with a harsh slash of his hand. “ _And_ , if it were not such a waste of my time, I would dispose of you myself.”

“Sir—”

“But I am a busy man, and therefore I will be calling security.” He steps back towards his desk, hand reaching for the rotary phone. In a split-second decision, Vanya leaps forward, slapping her hand down against his and pushing the phone back onto the receiver.

“How _dare_ you—"

“ _Please_ , sir,” she gasps out breathlessly, locking her gaze with his. “I’m hard-working, organized, and adaptable. I’m also a very quick learner, and would be willing to do anything you ask of me, no matter how menial. I would very much like to work for you.”

Vanya eases her hand off Reginald’s, stepping back a respectful distance before tucking her hands behind her back. Reginald tilts his head, regarding her with an unreadable expression on his face.

“It seems someone instructed you on what to say,” he says thoughtfully. “Tell me who it was.”

Vanya shakes her head as she stares straight forward. “I only want a job here. That’s all.” She bites the inside of her lip in fear as she feels Reginald’s gaze bore into her face. An uncomfortable silence forms, the seconds ticking by at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“Interesting. You might be useful yet.”

Vanya’s gaze darts towards his face, searching his expression for any sign of approval. She relaxes as he loosens his grip on the phone, turning back to settle behind his desk before rifling through a drawer.

“Sign it.”

He hands her piece of paper, which Vanya grabs and reads greedily. Surprisingly, nothing untoward; it merely details her possible duties, her hours and non-disclosure agreement. A small section at the end does catch her eye though, and Vanya’s brow nearly raises as she reads it.

  1. **Former Employment**



_The Employee agrees to be subject to procedural removal of all past memory prior to current employment, in order to protect the integrity of scientific innovation being conducted at the Umbrella Academy. Failure to comply with this procedure will result in immediate termination of this contract, along with any other benefits associated with the Umbrella Academy._

If Five and Ben hadn’t warned her, she probably would have refused to sign. But they did warn her. And now, here she is.

Vanya sighs, raising the pen. What other choice does she have?

The final stroke of her signature feels horribly heavy, the weight of her actions falling onto her shoulders as she silently hands the form back to Reginald. He looks it over and nods.

“Sit here,” he commands before leaving, the door shutting behind him.

Vanya complies, staring at the empty chair in front of her as her mind reels. Now at a point of no return, every doubt, ever fear rises to the surface in Vanya’s mind, clouding her thoughts and blocking her senses.

She thinks longingly back to the notebook sitting in Five’s desk drawer; she could have written more, _should_ have written more. There’s so much that she hadn’t thought to include, so many small, precious moments that Vanya regrets forgetting until this very moment.

But then she would be writing for days, weeks maybe. And that wouldn’t solve anything.

Vanya lets out a frustrated sigh, gripping her knees with her fingers as she looks around. The office is full of various knickknacks, shelves stuffed full of books and various expensive-looking figurines. She feels her gaze sliding over everything in a disinterested fashion, mind wandering. She’ll have plenty of time to observe and think about the contents of Reginald’s office, if she really is to work here—

Her breath catches in her throat at the familiar shape of a violin case, hidden between a bookshelf and an armchair. Vanya feels her fingers twitch instinctively as she remembers her own violin, tucked neatly under Five’s bed. She hopes desperately that wiping her memories won’t wipe her skills or her love for music. Muscle memory has to count for something, right?

“Do you play?”

Vanya starts, turning towards Reginald’s voice behind her as she nods.

“Interesting.” He settles back behind his desk. “Proceed, Number Three.”

Vanya’s attention jumps to the girl that steps forward, curly brown hair bouncing with every step. She turns to Vanya, giving her a smile that makes an involuntary shiver run down Vanya’s spine. There isn’t an ounce of sincerity nor warmth in her smile, and Vanya finds herself shying away as the girl opens her mouth. Vanya instinctively raises her hands to shield herself.

“I heard a rumor…that you forget everything about your life before the Academy.”

Vanya’s panicked movements suddenly halt as Number Three’s words filter through her ears and into her mind. Her eyes glaze over, milky white, as her arms fall, movement nearly mechanical as her hands fold neatly in her lap. The haze quickly slides away, leaving Vanya blinking in confusion before she turns to face Reginald. He nods approvingly at her.

“Number Seven. Welcome to the Umbrella Academy.”


	2. Chapter 2

Number Seven’s eyes shoot open at the sound of her 6:45 AM alarm. She pulls herself out of her bed with a yawn, mind sluggish throughout her entire morning routine. It isn’t until she sits down with a plate of eggs and toast that she deems herself awake enough to begin running through the day’s schedule in her head.

8:00 AM: _Report to Sir Reginald’s office for briefing of duties_

8:05 AM: _Perform said duties (most likely organization of files and data, judging by the tasks previously given to her)_

1:00 PM: _Lunch_

1:30 PM: _Accompany Sir Reginald to his meeting with Bulgarian neurologists; collect possible data files of interest to present and take notes when needed_

3:00 PM: _Debriefing, followed by further instructions detailing her duties for the remainder of the afternoon_

7:00 PM: _Dinner_

Seven hums to herself as she chews. Not a particularly strenuous day, all things considered. It had taken her a bit to catch up to the pace at which the Umbrella Academy operates, and Sir Reginald had informed her that her duties would remain rather simplistic until he had deemed her ready to help him with more important tasks.

But Seven is sure she’s proven her adeptness and willingness to work. Recently, Sir Reginald had begun to request her presence at meetings, and Seven had felt a fierce flutter of pride and excitement. It’d nearly been enough to overshadow her doubts about elements of her job here. But not quite enough.

Seven looks down at her breakfast, frowning as her thumb worries at the calluses at her fingertips. The movement feels habitual, instinctual. And yet, Seven has no recollection of why she would do such a thing. She raises her hand, curling her fingers as she stares at the calluses. They’re in such strange positions, formed at the tips of her fingers, unlike any writer’s callus she’s seen before. Not that she remembers seeing anyone else’s hands close enough to be the judge of that.

That’s what’s bothered her the most about this arrangement: she can’t remember anything before the past few weeks here at the Umbrella Academy. Logically, she knows that she must have lived an entire life before this, with a family and friends and school and hobbies and other things.

It doesn’t quite add up.

Seven stares harder to her hands, turning them over to examine her palms as she digs into her mind. Maybe she isn’t thinking hard enough; maybe she’s just forgotten everything, and she needs to recover it—

A searing pain suddenly lances through her mind, derailing her train of thought. Seven winces, her knee banging against the underside of the kitchen table. Grace gives her a questioning look from the sink that Seven dismisses with a weak smile before pushing her chair away, breakfast half-finished.

The pain in her head lessens with every step she takes, and it’s completely gone by the time Seven is halfway to Reginald’s office, hopelessly early for work. She sighs, taking a turn down an empty hallway. Maybe an aimless stroll about the manor will do her some good.

“Vanya?”

Seven whirls around as she feels someone grab her arm. Her eyes widen as she meets the gaze of a boy her age, his formal school uniform emblazoned with the Umbrella Academy crest.

“Vanya? I’m Number Seven,” she says slowly, tilting her head. The boy lets out a relieved sigh.

“Ah, good.” He tugs at her arm, forcing her to follow him down the hall with no further explanation. Seven gasps, stumbling along before she manages to tug her arm from his grip.

“What are you doing—"

“I’m Number Six,” the boy interrupts smoothly, turning to give her a look. “Sir Reginald didn’t tell you that I was instructed to seek you out before training?”

Seven’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t informed of any changes to my usual schedule,” she says slowly. “Sir Reginald said I wouldn’t be meeting any of the Umbrella Academy members until next week, at the very earliest.”

“Did he now? Well, change of plans!” Number Six says cheerfully, beckoning her to follow him before setting down the hall again. Seven follows him warily into his room, frowning as he closes the door and knocks briskly on the wall next to his bed.

Seven lets out a strangled yelp as another boy suddenly _appears_ in a flash of electric blue air. She recoils as he steps forward, looking her up and down.

“Good, you made it.” He casually tucks his hands into the pockets of his short, and Seven’s eyes dart between Six and the boy, both dressed in the same Umbrella Academy uniform.

“Who—who _are_ you?”

“Number Five, at your service,” the second boy says, lip curling into a smile that feels anything but friendly. Seven blinks, watching as Six places a careful hand on Five’s shoulder.

“She’s been rumored, can you get the notebook?”

Five nods, vanishing again as Seven gives Six a confused look.

“Rumored?”

“Three told you a rumor. You remember, don’t you?” Six steps forward almost cautiously, expression hopeful. “You had a life before all this, before the Umbrella Academy.”

“I—I did?” Seven’s eyes lock on Six, gaze unwavering even as Five warps back into the room with a notebook in hand.

“You came through a door that you couldn’t leave through. You asked Ben to help you, and we did,” Five says quietly, flipping the notebook open before handing it to her.

“Think, Vanya,” Six pleads, kneeling next to her.

“I’m, I’m not Vanya,” Seven stammers, glancing down at the notebook. Her eyes widen as she traces the words with her finger, looking at the handwriting that is undeniably hers.

An image flashes through her mind, a memory of writing words down as fast as she can until her hand begins cramping. Seven can nearly taste the fear accompanying the image, so familiar and yet so strange.

_My name is Vanya. The date is January 17 th, 2007_. _I stumbled into the Umbrella Academy when I walked through the alleyway wall. I couldn’t get back_ —

The wall.

The wall, hard and unyielding, Vanya’s fingers desperately clawing at the stone, trying to find a way back home.

Six’s hand, covering hers before helping her up.

“I…I came through the…the alleyway wall?” Vanya’s brow furrows as she thinks. “I came in and you told me to leave. But I couldn’t. So, you helped me…”

She remembers the strap of her violin case, digging into her skin as she gripped it in fear, looking around at the interior of the Umbrella Academy. Five, turning away from Six—no, from Ben—and leveling her with a cool, calm stare.

“You told me to get a job,” Vanya says, looking between Five and Ben. “To ask Reginald for a job because that’s the only way I could survive here. So, I did. ”

“Atta girl,” Ben says gently, his hand resting on her knee. “Can you remember anything further back? Before you met us?”

_My mother’s name is Alena. She works at the restaurant two blocks down from home, and she takes night classes at the nearby university. She is strong and brave and kind and I love her more than anyone._

Vanya’s head throbs as she reads, but she pushes forward, thinking as hard as she can. The words are so familiar, prompting a vague, but comforting image of a woman with long brown hair and a soft, kind smile. Worn, weathered hands that wraps themselves around Vanya in an embrace, a safe feeling that Vanya longs for now—

She gasps at the sharp pain that strikes at her temples, eyes squeezing shut as her hands tremble against the pages.

“You did well, Vanya. Relax. Breathe.”

She feels Ben rub her back in a soothing motion as Five eases the notebook from her hands.

“That’s…painful,” she says hoarsely, pressing her fingers to her forehead. Ben sighs.

“I know, it takes time. But you’ll get better at it, and it’ll start hurting less.”

And it does. She and Ben meet in his room as often as they can, tucked under the covers as they tell each other about as much of their lives as they can remember in hushed voices. Sometimes Five is there, listening with his head cocked in curiosity. Sometimes he isn’t. Regardless, things get a little easier with both of them by Vanya’s side.

But things also get harder. Getting used to life at the Academy _again_ , this time with her memories somewhat intact, is almost dangerous. She knows the routines and what’s expected of her now, but the task of schooling her expression, keeping herself neutral and obedient at all times, is incredibly difficult.

What’s somehow even more difficult is handling the itch she feels in her fingers, now that she knows why it’s there. She can’t seem to keep her gaze from drifting to the violin in Sir Reginald’s office, barely managing to tamp down the urge to snatch it up and just _play_.

She wants so badly to feel the comfort of something, anything familiar. It’s so lonely here. Even with Ben’s company and the steady reassurance of Five’s presence, Vanya is so, _so_ lonely.

Vanya feels a deep ache in her chest late at night, when it’s quiet enough that all she can hear is the brush of her eyelashes against the pillow and the steady beat of her heart. Having the one thing she can trust at her fingertips would make everything alright, make Vanya feel alright despite how little she knows.

The Umbrella Academy is such a mystery—something Vanya’s sure wouldn’t change no matter how long she stayed—and full of games. Games she isn’t aware of, doesn’t understand, and can’t play correctly. The few games she’s privy to are hard.

One game goes like this:

“You need to attract as little attention to yourself as possible,” Five says, giving Vanya a pointed look. “Dad will sniff out anything if you give him reason to.”

And there’s another one that’s even worse:

“Vanya…” Ben sighs, lips pursing into a frown. “We can’t act like we know you. And you can’t act like you know us, either. I’m sorry. ”

It makes sense. She gets it. But it doesn’t hurt any less when she meets Five for the first time and he barely flicks a glance in her direction before moving into his training. It isn’t until the second time Five sees her in Reginald’s company that he deigns to speak to her. No, not even _to_ her. About her.

“Is she here to stay?”

Vanya glances up, frowning as Reginald turns to look at Five.

“What makes you say that, Number Five?”

“The people who observe us are usually…older. More experienced,” Five says, eyeing her with a hint of disdain. Vanya resists the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

“Number Seven will be operating as my assistant, for the time being.”

“You don’t say.” Five disappears, warping inches away from Vanya in bright flash of blue. Vanya gasps, the hair on the back of her neck standing on edge as she fumbles with her clipboard and pen. Five peers at her haughtily, looking her up and down.

“Interesting,” he says stiffly.

“Your opinion was not asked for, Number Five,” Reginald says, stepping forward. Five vanishes in an instant, reappearing on the other side of the room with a pistol in hand.

“Understood,” he says carelessly, cocking the gun. “Shall we get started then?”

(“He’s just showing off,” Ben reassures her a few nights later. “He’s good at being an asshole. Though I’m sure you’ve noticed that.”

“It’s annoying,” Vanya says, wrinkling her nose. Ben laughs, shrugging.

“Five can be annoying. But he’s good. That’s just how it goes.”)

Ben is, thankfully, a little more courteous than Five, giving Vanya a subtle nod when Reginald isn’t looking. And it makes her feel a little better; at least, better than she feels while meeting the others.

Number One eyes her with disinterest before going back to tossing things around the room at Reginald’s orders. Vanya dutifully notes the weight of each and every object.

Number Two directs a knife at her without a second thought, nicking her arm and ripping the sleeve of her shirt. Vanya wrinkles her nose, yanking the knife out from where it’s embedded in the wall and pocketing it. She doesn’t give it back, and Two glares at her the entire time she’s there.

Vanya gives Number Three as wide of a berth as she possibly can without arousing suspicion, watching as Three whispers into a maid’s ear. The woman’s eyes cloud over before she walks briskly away, and Three throws them both a cocky smile. Vanya suppresses a shiver.

Number Four is the most approachable of them all, giving her a wave and curious look when she walks in. Reginald doesn’t let her stay long.

All in all, Vanya’s exhausted by the end of it all, and getting to drop the act and be normal the moment she walks into Ben’s room is a huge relief.

“How are we doing?” Ben says from where he sits cross-legged on the bed, tilting his head as Vanya walks closer.

“Bad. Everything sucks,” she says, falling backwards onto Ben’s bed with a groan. Five scoffs.

“Everything hardly _sucks_ ,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re alive, you have a job, Dad isn’t experimenting on you. Also, you’re _alive_. I’d be a little more grateful about that.”

“This all _doubly_ sucks,” Vanya says, waving her hand in Five’s general direction without looking, “Because you’re mean and you make me feel bad.”

Five rolls his eyes. “I make everyone feel bad, you’re not special.”

“He’s not wrong. About the making everyone feel bad thing,” Ben hastily amends.

“Well, if I’m not special, then I can complain, can’t I? You don’t seem to care,” Vanya says, propping herself up on her elbows to give Five a wide-eyed, innocent look.

“Vanya,” Five says through gritted teeth. Vanya sticks her tongue out at him, relishing his irritated groan.

“Seriously?” Ben sighs, giving both of them an unimpressed look. Five and Vanya stare at each other for a few moments before Vanya flops back onto the bed. Five slumps deeper into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ben looks down at Vanya. “How are you doing other than…all that?”

“Fine. Surviving, I guess.” Vanya turns, giving Ben a weak smile. He pats her hand reassuringly.

“Aren’t we all, Vanya. Aren’t we all.”

That’s pretty much the best she can describe it as. Surviving, scraping by. It’s not the best, but it could be worse. She could be bored. But over time, Vanya finds that her duties are rather…varied. It turns out that her job title as Sir Reginald’s assistant is really just shorthand for “the person who does everything he doesn’t really want to dirty his fingers with, which includes, but is not limited to, mundane tasks such as filing, note-taking, and actually treating guests like human beings.”

Normally, she doesn’t really mind. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop and all that. But she _does_ start to mind when she’s ushered into the medical wing one night with the command “Help Grace patch up the children,” barked at her.

Vanya stumbles toward one of the tables, clapping her hands over her mouth as she sees Ben lying there, chest heaving as his fingers flutter around a wound above his hip. One of his tentacles hasn’t receded into Ben’s stomach and moves weakly, tip dragging against the ground.

Vanya rushes to his side, eyes widening as Ben’s hands snatches out to grab hers.

“What happened?”

“Ambush,” Ben grits out, grip tightening. Vanya can feel the bones in her hand grinding together. The smell of blood makes her stomach roil.

“G—Grace?” Vanya stutters out, eyes glued to Ben’s face, contorted in pain.

“You can clean off and bandage Number Two. I’ll take care of Number Six.”

Vanya feels something being pressed into her hand. But she can’t let go of Ben, she can’t look away from the wound, from his face, from all the _blood_ —

“Seven?”

Vanya tears her gaze away, looking down to see a box of butterfly bandages gripped in her hand. Her heart stutters.

“I don’t—I’ve never done this before, I—"

“Darling.” Grace cups Vanya’s face between her hands, forcing her gaze up before brushing her hair behind her ear. “One foot in front of the other. Clean it with alcohol, make sure it’s not too deep, and then follow the instructions on the box. Can you do that for me?”

“Y—yes,” Vanya murmurs, watching numbly as Grace pries Ben’s hand from Vanya’s. Finger by finger, movements mechanical. Ben lets out a distressed noise as Vanya’s hand falls limply to her side, and it takes every ounce of willpower in her to turn away, walking towards Number Two. One foot in front of the other.

The box slips in her hands, skin slick with blood.

Two clutches his shoulder; he’s in too much pain to bare his teeth at her as she stops in front of him, though he doesn’t have any trouble hissing acidly at her as she cleans the nasty set of cuts spanning his shoulder and upper chest.

Vanya thumbs the blood off the box of bandages, squinting at the instructions before fumbling with the materials. Two lets out a pointed sigh.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” Vanya says helplessly, looking up. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Two freezes, giving her a suspicious look. “It’s going to hurt if you want to patch me up right.”

“But I don’t _want_ to hurt you,” she says. The bandages fall through Vanya’s trembling fingers, landing on Two’s knee. He picks it up, eyes narrowing before beckoning her closer.

“It’s not hard,” he mutters, pinching the skin at her wrist and demonstrating. “You just need to go for it.”

“Just go for it,” Vanya echoes as she closes his cuts, one by one. The bandages straighten as her hands steady.

“Ah—yeah, that’s right. _Shit_.”

Vanya freezes.

“Keep going,” Two grits out. “Don’t half-ass it or you’ll regret it.”

Vanya relaxes. “Right.”

By the time she’s done, Two’s legs are covered in backing strips and the room is otherwise empty. Two gruffly thanks her, hopping down from the table and slipping out of the room. Vanya numbly watches the backing strips flutter to the floor.

_Ben_. She needs to check on Ben.

Her mind slowly focuses as she hops the stairs two at a time, sandwich in hand and extra painkillers in her pocket for Ben. She eases the door to his room open, peering through the crack.

Five’s there, sitting at the edge of Ben’s bed. He seems to be reading, bent over Ben’s body as his lips move in the shape of hushed words Vanya can barely hear. The moonlight catches in Five’s hair, highlighting the furrow of his brow as he looks at Ben with concern. Ben murmurs lowly in return, his wince causing the light to catch the sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

Vanya backs away slowly from the door. They’re busy, she shouldn’t disturb them—

The floorboard creaks menacingly under her foot. _Shit_.

A sudden flash of blue in Vanya’s face startles her enough that she misbalances, leaning too far backwards. She feels a hand wrap around her wrist, pulling her forward enough to prevent her from falling.

“Vanya?”

Vanya steadies herself, meeting Five’s sharp gaze with a sheepish look.

“Hi. Uh, Ben missed dinner and I…” She trails off helplessly, holding up the plate. Five tilts his head before nodding, stepping aside to let her in. Ben twists carefully in bed, gaze lighting up as he sees her.

“How’re you doing?” Vanya murmurs, putting the plate on his nightstand before carefully settling herself next to him, tangling their fingers together.

“Awesome,” Ben croaks, giving her hand a weak squeeze. Vanya lets out a quiet laugh, looking up at Five, who shakes his head with a frown.

“That good, hm?” Vanya tilts her head towards Ben, brushing her hand against his forehead. Ben hums weakly, gesturing towards his stomach. She watches as the bedsheets shift uneasily, a tentacle slowly easing itself out from under the cloth. Vanya can see a blood-stained bandage sloppily wrapped around it, most likely dislodged from moving around.

Vanya’s gaze flicks up to meet Five’s. “You said you got ambushed?” she says gently, holding out her free hand. The tentacle inches toward her before settling tentatively against her palm, curling around her fingers sluggishly. Five steps forward, fixing the bandage with quick, deft movements.

“Yeah, we…” Ben exhales breathily. “We underestimated the amount of security. Rookie mistake.”

“We’re just glad you made it back,” Five says, gently patting the newly bandaged tentacle. It slithers out of Vanya’s grip, moving to rest against Ben’s chest. Vanya regards Ben carefully, taking in his pained expression and tense posture.

“I think I should get going. I don’t want to intrude.” Vanya pulls away to stand, starting as Ben’s grip tightens.

“No, please stay, I—“ Ben cuts himself off, arm falling as he lets out a quite groan.

“Oh, Ben,” Vanya says gently, catching Ben’s hand and placing it back on the bed. “I’ll check on you in the morning, I promise.”

Ben tugs her closer, blinking as he focuses on her face.

“You weren’t ‘ntruding,” he says, words slurring slightly. “You’re always welcome.”

Vanya smiles, pushing his hair away from his forehead before rising.

“Thank you. I hope you feel better.”

“I can take you back, if you want,” Five murmurs, holding his hand out to Vanya. He cocks a brow at her as she hesitates.

Vanya turns, taking in Ben’s amused nod before tentatively taking Five’s hand. She feels Five harness the energy around them, pulling effortlessly to compress the space in a heartbeat before _twisting_. Vanya barely has time to gasp before the pressure lifts and she feels her feet touching the floor of her own room. She staggers, resting her hands heavily on her knees as breathes deeply.

“Dunno if I’m ever going to get used to that.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you’ll learn to deal with it more gracefully with time.” Five waves his hand dismissively before shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. Vanya glances up, taking in his almost uncomfortable expression.

“Thank you,” Five says suddenly. “For bringing food and checking in on Ben,” he adds hastily, brows raised as though he surprised by his own words. Vanya shrugs, straightening.

“Of course. Just wanted to make sure he was alright, he…” She takes a shuddering breath, shaking her head. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“I know.” Five nods. “I appreciate how much you care for Ben. For…both of us, I suppose.”

“Yeah, well, I’m toast without you two,” Vanya says, giving Five a wry smile.

“But that’s not why you do it.”

“Of course not.”

Five hums, brow furrowing as his mouth opens.

“You’re…it’s good you’re here. I’m glad, I mean, I’m not—Ben, he…” Five huffs, squeezing his eyes shut. “Forget it, I—"

“Five.” Vanya reaches out, resting her hand gently on his shoulder. “I’m glad to be here with you two. As much as I can be, given all…this.” She waves her hand in the air before it drops limply to her side. “Can I…are we okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Five says quietly, giving her a thoughtful look. His eyes widen as Vanya quickly pulls him into a hug, his hands hovering stiffly in the air.

“Thank you,” she whispers, arms tightening around him. She feels Five relax slightly in her hold, enough that his arms rest carefully over the small of her back to return the embrace. It’s awkward enough that Vanya snorts into his shirt, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. Five’s posture slackens, patting her back haltingly. She can hear his amused exhale and her heart warms. Things might be strange now, but they’re going to be okay.

\---

_September 17, 2007. Results from studying Number Three’s inclinations toward manipulation of house staff prove inconclusive as to what she warrants worthy of her attention. Indeed, it seems as though, despite her particular nature…_

Vanya’s gaze wanders away from the report, the words stretching on for pages and pages. Her fingers tap incessantly against her knee as she glances up, eyes drawn instinctively towards—

She pulls her gaze away from the violin case for the umpteenth time, focusing back on the paperwork in front of her.

She can’t _help_ it. Everything is so unfamiliar here that she can’t help but be drawn towards the security a connection to her past life provides. And it’s so hard to resist when its dangled in her face like this, unaware of its allure.

Though, the idea of picking the violin up again, as enthralling as it is, also scares Vanya. With every passing day, the looks she directs towards it feel more and more tinged with panic. Things fade, knowledge isn’t forever, and Vanya can feel her skills waning with every moment her fingers don’t touch the strings.

It might feel a bit dramatic, but the violin feels like an integral part to who she was before all this. Before the Umbrella Academy. And to lose that, to be unable to wield the one skill she was proud to have before all this, well, _that_ scares her more than she can say.

“Are you interested in it?”

Vanya jolts out of her reverie, snapping to attention. “Sir?”

Reginald merely gives her a severe look before nodding at the violin. Vanya feels her cheeks heat as she casts her gaze down to the floor. _Shit_.

“Yes, I…” Vanya pauses, choosing her words carefully. “I feel a strange affinity towards it. A connection, somehow. As though playing it would…complete me? Like a puzzle piece.” Vanya lets out a nervous laugh before shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Take it.”

Vanya’s head whips up, jaw dropping. “I—I’m sorry?”

“Take it,” Reginald waves his hand dismissively at it, giving her an almost thoughtful look. “It’s needed a new owner for quite some time, and I believe you will suit it well.”

“Thank you, Sir, I—"

“And take the rest of the evening off,” he interrupts (and Vanya can’t quite be sure, but it seems like he’s hiding a _smile_ , pleased by her reaction). “I’m sure you will find something productive to do.”

“I—Thank you. Thank you so much!” Vanya gushes, snatching the violin before backing out of the room and sprinting down the hall. She turns the corner, nearly slamming into Five.

“Seven. You should watch where—" He pauses, gaze falling on the violin case. “You got a violin? I didn’t know you…could play,” Five says carefully, flashing her a warning look.

“Sir Reginald gave this to me, it’s not mine.”

Five flinches, clearly taken aback. “Dad? _He_ gave it to you?”

“He said it was in need of a new owner?” Vanya shrugs, unable to keep the grin off her face. “He seemed rather pleased that I was interested.”

“Huh. That’s unexpected.” Five gives her an impressed look before leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. “You’re going to play then?”

“Yes,” Vanya says, nodding giddily as her hand clutches the handle. It’s a different case than her normal one, but the familiar heft of the instrument makes the muscles in her arm sing with joy. Vanya glances around before leaning closer.

“It’s been so long, I’ve been itching to play for _ever_ ,” she whispers to Five before pulling away. He nods.

“I’ll leave you to that then,” he says, making a move to leave. Vanya’s hand shoots out to stop him.

“You and Ben are welcome stop by and I can play for you. If you want,” she says quickly. Five looks at her, expression unreadable for just a moment before the corner of his lip ticks up into a hint of a smile, dimple deepening.

“We’ll be there shortly.”

Vanya nods before rushing back to her room, placing the violin gently on her bed. She closes her eyes, letting her breath out in a rush of air before clicking the case open, eyes roving over the familiar warm wood tint.

It’s in surprisingly good shape for having not been played in a while (if the dust on the case is any indication of that). She runs her fingers over the strings, nerves fluttering with fear as she checks it over, plucks the strings into tune.

What if it doesn’t sound right?

Vanya hoists the violin up, tucking the shoulder rest neatly under her chin. 

What if she doesn’t have that spark anymore?

She takes a deep breath, bow hovering above the strings nervously.

What if this is it? The confirmation that the last tangible thing tying her back to her old life, her _real_ life, is gone?

Vanya takes a deep breath. She can feel her hands shaking.

Well. Only one way to find out.

She closes her eyes, hesitantly drawing the bow across the strings and—

Oh. This…this feels _right_. Vanya nearly laughs out loud as she leans into the music that flies forth from her fingers, everything coming back to her in a rush. How could she have ever felt so afraid?

The music surrounds her, embracing her in its familiar hold as the notes weave in and out and around her in harmony. It almost feels like the music is taking on a life of its own, energy humming through her veins and through the notes as she moves with the music.

This is where she belongs.

The sudden slam of the door startles Vanya, strings screeching as her bow jerks across them. She opens her eyes blearily, looking up to see Ben and Five staring at her.

“How are you _doing_ that?” Five hisses.

“What, playing?” Vanya makes a frustrated noise. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t play like I know what I’m doing, but it’s been so long, I couldn’t help myself—"

“No. There was a certain…energy in the air. I could feel it.” Ben glances at Five. “We both could.”

Vanya shrugs, lips quirking up. “The power of music?”

“Don’t play around, Vanya. This is _important_ ,” Five hisses. Vanya frowns, grip shifting on the neck of the violin as her arms drop to her side.

“I didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. And besides, what could I possibly have done? Maybe it’s the violin, I don’t know.”

Five makes an irritated noise, turning away and disappearing in a flash of blue. He warps back into the room in a heartbeat, a familiar violin case in his hands.

“Fine. Then try this one.”

“I don’t understand why you’re making such a huge deal out of this,” Vanya says as she switches instruments, checking her own violin over with a practiced eye. “It was probably just latent energy from somewhere else in the manor. Or something.” Her hands are trembling again.

Ben and Five exchange a look over her head.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ben says delicately. “All we know is that we felt something and…we can’t rule you out.”

Vanya snorts, glancing up quickly. “What, like I have powers or something? I’m just normal, I’m not like you guys.”

“Then prove it.” Five says, eyes narrowed. “ _Play_.”

Vanya frowns at both of them before shrugging, sliding her violin back under her chin and lifting the bow. She settles into the familiar hold of her own instrument before closing her eyes and playing. She lets her body move with the music that pours from the strings, feeling the dips and curves of each note deep in her bones. They wrap around her, lifting her heart and carrying her spirits higher and higher and higher.

“Vanya. Open your eyes.”

Her eyes flutter open, bow still gliding across the strings as she takes Five and Ben in. Her eyes suddenly snap to the room around them. Her notebooks, pens, her blazer that was draped over the back of the chair, the chair itself; they’re all _floating_.

Vanya gasps, yanking the bow away and watching as everything falls to the floor in a cacophony of noise. The feeling of being wrapped around by the music disappears as quickly as it came, and Vanya feel strangely heavier now. She turns to Ben and Five, shocked.

“I—what, what was that?”

Five glances down at the items littering floor before meeting her gaze, expression serious.

“Vanya. I think you have _powers_.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You have powers, this all makes sense,” Five says. Vanya sits on her bed, numbly watching him pace back and forth. “The temp portal, the wards, your birthday—”

“Yeah, I did always think the birthday thing was a weird coincidence,” Ben says to her, shrugging. “I guess not. You’re one of us.”

“What…what does that mean, exactly?” Vanya says carefully, fingers curling into fists. She forces herself to relax, folding her hands together in her lap instead.

“It means you were one of at least seven children with supernatural abilities who were born with no father on October 1st, 1989. It also means that you are in even more danger than we thought.”

“How?”

“As a normal human, you weren’t interesting.” Five makes a face as Ben gives him a pointed look. “It’s true, isn’t it? You couldn’t offer Dad anything he didn’t already have. Therefore, you weren’t a threat and he was able to offer you a job without a second thought. But now…” Five exhales, pushing his hair away from his forehead. “Now you have _powers_. Now you have something he doesn’t. And he’ll want to take advantage of it, if he finds out.”

Next to her, Ben shivers.

“Did it feel like he was setting you up?” Vanya turns, startling as she finds Five’s face inches from her own.

“Uh, no?” Vanya pushes him away with her finger to his chest, shaking her head. “He only offered it to me because I was always looking at it. He just gave it to me when I said I was interested in learning. Said it needed a new owner.”

“Interesting.” Five steps away, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “We can’t dismiss that he suspects something. We’re going to have to be very, _very_ careful.”

“My powers are connected to the violin, right?” Vanya says quietly, looking down at her lap. “I just won’t play, then.”

“Too easy. Dad offered the violin, and now you’re going to have to follow-through. We’ll have to think this through more.”

“It’s probably more complex than that,” Ben says gently, laying his hand on hers. “For one, having your abilities connect to just the violin seems very…specific compared to all our other abilities. I’d be willing to bet your powers were triggered by, but not limited to the violin.”

“Very astute point,” Five says, nodding. “We’ll just need to watch your practicing very carefully.”

Vanya shrinks in on herself, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted something familiar in this place. I ruined everything.”

“It’s not your fault,” Five says firmly. “You got stuck in a bad situation, like all of us. The nature of this place is that we just get punished for what makes us happy, one way or another. It isn’t bad that you wanted to feel happy. In fact, this might be good.” He turns to Ben. “I think this means we should jumpstart our plan.”

Ben pales, swallowing. Vanya looks between the two of them.

“Your plan?”

Five nods. “Our plan to break out of here.”

 _What_? They must be out of their _minds_.

“You must be out of your mind,” Vanya says urgently. Five rolls his eyes.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. You’re in Dad’s office a lot, right?”

“A fair amount,” Vanya says slowly. “But I don’t do much in there. I really only interact with the filing cabinets.”

“See? Five, we’ve been _over_ this. We don’t have nearly enough information to break into Dad’s office,” Ben says in exasperation.

“ _Break in_?” Vanya squeaks, eyes wide. Five turns to Vanya, eyes narrowed.

“Yes. If we want to escape, we need to know everything we can about Dad. Right now, we’re running blind. We need to get in there.”

Vanya shakes her head. “I don’t know if I—"

“ _Vanya_.”

Vanya gulps as Five gives her a pointed look before shaking his head with a sigh.

“If you can’t help with it, then we’ll figure something else out. But right now, you’re our best chance.”

Vanya sucks in air unsteadily, looking between Ben and Five. Five’s gaze bores into her as Ben inclines his head, gaze full of concern. She exhales heavily.

“I’ll do it. But,” she says firmly, raising her finger, “I want to get a better grip on my powers first. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

Five huffs out an exhale, nodding. “Understandable. We can work with that.”

And they do, even thought it’s much easier said than done; Vanya feels like she’s being pressed flat by a steamroller more often than not. First the memories, now powers. Going through routines that were just getting easy are now infinitely harder once again, everything louder and brighter and just even more difficult to handle. It’s another layer to add on top of the lopsided, very unstable cake that is her life.

She feels more delicate now, like every single one of her nerves is exposed to open air, sensations beating down upon them at every turn. Everything feels more intense, but sound is the worse. The click of her fork against porcelain plates, the scratch of Sir Reginald’s pen against paper, the tap of Five’s pencil against the desk late at night when they get the chance to sprawl on Five’s bed and talk about everything and nothing. The vibrations rattle around in her head, translating into an unshakeable energy Vanya can feel buzzing beneath her fingertips when she sits too still.

The training observations are the worst. Number One’s one displays of strength as he smashes objects together make her teeth rattle in her mouth and her brain shudder painfully in her skull. But she manages to grit her teeth and keep herself in check. Until one day, when she’s observing Ben’s training.

“Number Six,” Reginald says. “Your abilities have proved dexterous, but they severely lack the strength needed to be powerful enough to fear.”

Ben nervously eyes the large metal cage sitting in the middle of the training room before glancing back at Reginald.

“Well? Get in, Number Six.”

Ben slinks in, starting as the cage door locks with a large _clunk_ behind him. It’s small, almost too small for Ben to fit in, his stance hunching slightly to accommodate.

“Dad?”

“You will not be freed from this cage unless you can break out of it yourself.” Reginald turns to Vanya. “Take note of every attempt he makes. Do _not_ eliminate any details.”

“Yes, Sir,” Vanya says meekly, turning to watch Reginald’s back as he retreats out of the room, door slamming behind him.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Ben laughs weakly as he sits hard on the floor of the cage, eyes narrowed as he takes in everything around him. Vanya eventually mirrors him, settling herself on the floor and dutifully noting Ben’s actions as he tests the strength of the bars. His tentacles emerge after a bit, crawling curiously up the bars and across the floor.

“Be— _Six_ ,” Vanya giggles breathlessly as a tentacle curls comfortably around her knee, tickling the skin there. Ben laughs as he tugs the tentacle away, exchanging an amused look with her before returning back to studying the cage. It isn’t long before Ben has the appendages curled around the metal, calculating gaze pinned to the cage structure as he _pulls_.

The low groan of the metal immediately sets Vanya on edge, teeth gritting as she instinctively straightens. The noise echoes around the empty training room, vibrations bouncing around before them seem to barrel directly into her.

Vanya can feel energy swirling in her stomach, coursing through her in blood. She can feel herself shaking and she can’t _stop_.

Ben grunts as he pulls, sweat dripping down his temple. The metal bars twist apart, moaning louder and higher in pitch, sound reverberating every which way—

There’s a loud crack. One of the bars dislodges itself suddenly, slamming into one of its counterparts still welded into the cage structure.

A loud clanging noise echoes throughout the room. Vanya yelps as she presses her hands helplessly to her ears. It’s so loud and she can’t protect herself from the waves of sound ramming into her. They pierce her skin, digging into her bones and tugging desperately at her soul, pulling and yanking and it hurts, it hurts, it _hurts_ —

“ _—Vanya_!”

And then suddenly, it stops. Vanya shivers as she curls into herself, the silence almost deafening.

“Vanya,” Ben murmurs, at her side in an instant. His hands flutter about before gripping her shoulders tightly. “Are you alright?”

She nods, grasping the front of his uniform as she tries to catch her breath. Ben pulls her closer, letting her press her ear against his chest to feel his heartbeat as he wraps his arms around her. The steady thrumming grounds her, settling the uneasy fluttering beneath her skin.

“Shit,” Ben suddenly whispers, grip tightening around Vanya. She pulls away enough to peek over his shoulder, eyes widening. A huge crack, freshly made, lines the stone wall opposite them.

“Oh God, that was me, wasn’t it?” Vanya murmurs, shrinking back down behind Ben. He loosens his hold on her as he turns, casting his gaze about frantically. A few tentacles slide from under his shirt, grabbing the discarded metal bar and flinging it violently against the wall.

Ben clamps his hands tight over Vanya’s ears as the metal smacks against stone. As silence fills the room again, he grabs her discarded notebook and pen and shoves them into her hands.

“I cracked the wall,” he hisses. “I miscalculated my strength and the bar’s trajectory. Write that down.”

“But—”

“Just do it. Whatever punishment he cooks up for me can’t be worse than what he’s already done.” Ben ducks his head, trying to catch her gaze. “Please.”

So she writes it down, trying desperately to steady the shaking of her hand. But she can’t. They shake as she reports back to Sir Reginald, so she tucks them tightly behind her back. They shake as she hurriedly files the notes, and they still keep shaking as she flees to her room, throwing her arms over her face as she flops back onto her bed.

Breathe. _Breathe_.

Vanya hears Five warp in. She doesn’t look up.

“Tell me what happened,” he says, sitting himself on her bed without a greeting.

“Ben was in a cage and he broke himself out. But the sound the metal bars made was loud and I felt like my head was going to split in half,” she says, voice muffled by her arms. “And then I cracked the wall. Somehow. And now Ben is in trouble because of me.”

“Huh,” Five says thoughtfully, leaning back elbows. “Loud sounds are bad. That’s good to know.”

“Are you trying to be _helpful_? Because you’re doing a shitty job, if so,” Vanya hisses, sending him a glare from under her elbow. “Where’s Ben?”

“Training,” he says shortly.

Vanya pulls her arm away, giving Five a look.

“What do you mean,” she says slowly. Five jerks his head.

“With Dad. To make up for the wall.”

“What does he have to do in…training?” Vanya struggles to sit up, hands twisting in her lap as she ducks her head to catch Five’s eye. Five meets her gaze coolly, but she can tell he’s not saying something.

“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me.”

Vanya feels her stomach drop.

“Oh. I see.”

Five tilts his head, watching as she leans forward, burying her face in her hands.

“Vanya?”

“I messed it all up, didn’t I?” She mutters, gaze pinned to the floor. “I can’t do anything right.”

“Vanya—"

“I just cause trouble for you two, don’t I? I wish I could do better. You _deserve_ better.” She sniffs, trying to discreetly wipe away the tears dripping down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Vanya,” Five murmurs, shaking his head as he scoots closer to her. She looks up, blinking.

“You’re not supposed to be good at any of this. We’re all bad at our powers in the beginning. And I know we’re asking a lot of you, trying to hide it from Dad.” He covers her hand with his own, almost hesitant. “You’re doing a shitty job right now. But you have us with you, so it’s going to be okay.”

\---

Slowly, and with Ben and Five’s help, Vanya gets better at controlling her abilities. It’s a long and arduous process, but eventually, shutting the smaller sounds out becomes easy enough that she isn’t on edge all the time. The loud sounds are still hard to control, but they’re getting there.

And after so many late nights of secret training with Ben and Five, Vanya finally has enough of a grip on her powers to step back and think about it all.

It’s weird having abilities, she decides. It’s even more weird because it’s a secret. Is this what superheroes feel like? With their secret identities? Solving mysteries that only they can see or hear? It’s weird, but it’s also cool. It makes her special, how she can do things that Ben and Five can’t.

That’s the thought Vanya clings to when she stops in the middle of the hall, cocking her ear. There’s a…vibration, a sound that she’s never heard before. It seems to be coming from somewhere in the manor. But not within it, almost next to? Still a part of it.

Vanya frowns, glancing at the clock on the wall. She decides she has enough time until dinner to check it out and slips down the halls, tracking the sounds all the way through the courtyard up to an imposing-looking black door. It’s locked, but a quick scan of the doorframe gives her the location of the keys, hanging on a hook next to the handle.

The moment she opens the door, the sound of sobbing assaults her ears. Vanya flings the door open, eyes adjusting to the darkness inside.

“He—hello?”

Vanya squints at the figure huddled in the corner, face lifting from where it had been shoved into their arms.

“Number Four?” She asks, stepping forward hesitantly. The figure straightens, wiping at their face.

“Seven.” The relief in his voice is palpable as he reaches for her. “Please, get me out of here.”

“Why—what are you doing here?” Vanya sinks down next to him, taking in his tear-soaked face and trembling fingers. “What is this place?”

“The mausoleum. Dad…leaves me here to confront the gh—ghosts. The monsters.” Four’s voice shakes at that, and Vanya can hear his heartbeat pounding even louder. “So I’ll become better at dealing with them. Stronger.”

“That’s terrible,” Vanya murmurs. She moves closer, curling tentatively around him. Four slinks into her grip, shrinking into her as thought Vanya can protect him, shield him from whatever she can’t see.

Vanya’s read Reginald’s notes on Four, as sparse as they were. She knows Reginald sees the least potential in Four’s abilities, as he hasn’t quite managed to get a grip on how to utilize them, offensively or defensively. But Vanya had no idea that Reginald had taken to just locking Four away, desperate to make him face his fears without any guidance. Vanya feels anger curl somewhere deep in her chest, smoldering with a muted rage. How dare he be so _cruel_?

“You need to get me out. Please. I can’t stay here anymore.” Four’s gaze is desperate, wide eyes shining even in the room’s dim lighting. Vanya opens her mouth to agree before stopping, biting her lip.

She wants so badly to let him out. But she can’t make decisions so easily now, not with her actions holding the power to hurt not only herself, but Ben and Five. Letting Four out could jeopardize their safety _and_ their plan.

But as Vanya looks at Four’s face, she knows that she needs to let him out. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself, let alone _forgive_ herself if she didn’t help.

“Listen very carefully,” Vanya murmurs, taking Four’s hand. It feels like a strange reversal of how Ben covered for her all those weeks ago. Looks like she’s paying it forward. “I heard you crying and I let you out because I thought you locked yourself in. Whatever Sir Reginald asks you, tell him I was the one that insisted on letting you out. He’s never told me about this place and what you do here, so I can just say that I thought you locked yourself in and I let you out. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Four says, relief palpable in his voice. He scurries away with a hurried “thank you” once they’ve walked out together, leaving Vanya to lock the door with a heavy _clunk_ behind her.

She walks back into the manor, a fierce insistence burning in her heart. She can’t be complacent in Sir Reginald’s actions any longer. It’s been long enough that Vanya has stood by the sidelines, trying to attract the least amount of attention. Now is the time to _act_.

Vanya puts her hand down flat against Five’s desk a few nights later, gaze burning intensely as she surveys Five and Ben.

“When can we move forward with the escape plan? I want to get out. I want to get _everyone_ out.”

Five’s eyes glimmer as he takes her in with a satisfied smile, the dimple in his cheek deepening. He doesn’t ask any questions, but she knows that he understands her.

“That’s what I like to hear. Here’s what I was thinking.”

“First: Vanya needs to be out of Reginald’s reach. So he can be distracted.”

\---

Vanya glances up from her notes. “Sir? I’m not…feeling very well. Would it be possible if I could go lie down for a bit?”

Reginald dismisses her with a wave of his hand, not even caring enough to look up. Vanya makes an appreciative noise before rushing out of the room, her steps muted against the carpeted hallway.

“Go for it,” Vanya whispers, tapping her hand against Ben’s as they cross paths on the staircase.

\---

“Second: A distraction.”

\---

Ben raps his knuckles against the doorframe. “Dad?”

“Number Six.” Reginald still doesn’t look up from his notes. Ben takes a deep breath before speaking.

“I wanted to know your thoughts on a strength comparison between me and Number One. After breaking the wall a few weeks ago, I want to see if I could better harness that power.”

At that, Reginald finally looks up. There’s a gleam in his eye, one that makes Ben’s hands curl into fists behind his back.

“An interesting proposal, Number Six. Come with me.”

\---

“Third: Vanya and I sneak in. And then we investigate.”

Ben frowns. “And if you don’t find what you’re looking for in time?”

“We’ll at least have narrowed our search. I think that’s worth the risk. Vanya?”

“I’m in,” she says with a firm nod. Five turns to Ben, a challenge in his gaze. Ben sighs, shaking his head.

“ _Fine_. I’m in.”

\---

“Filing cabinets where I work are here, and Sir Reginald never lets me do anything over _there_.” Vanya waves in the vicinity of his desk. Five immediately warps behind it, carefully rifling through the papers scattered on the desk.

“Tell me,” he says conversationally, as though they aren’t breaking into the office of his very powerful father. Vanya has to give him credit; Five has guts. “If you were a billionaire with a penchant for torturing children with supernatural abilities, where would you hide your information on how the manor is protected?”

“I’d hide it on my person, but that doesn’t strike me as his style,” Vanya murmurs, looking up from where she’s crouched by a set of carved wooden drawers, bobby pin in hand. She thanks her lucky stars that Number Two had been in a friendly enough mood to teach her how to lockpick when she caught him breaking into the pantry one evening.

“His notebook, the one that he’s always writing in. I’d say there or anywhere that doesn’t look like it’s touched frequently. I doubt Sir Reginald is working on mansion security as frequently as he is his research.”

“Noted.” Five flashes her an approving look before rifling through the notebook, eyes scanning the pages quickly. Vanya turns back to the drawers, flicking her bangs out of her eyes with a huff when the drawers yield nothing beyond financial spreadsheets from the last 6 months. She moves to Five’s side, jiggling at the locks of the cabinets behind him as Five pages through the book.

“This notebook seems to be more his notes on us than anything.” His voice curls with a note of anger, light enough that Vanya almost misses it. She turns, seeing the tenseness of his posture and the stiff way in which he holds the pages between his fingers.

“Five?”

“It’s…” Five trails off, turning to look at her. “Later. I’ll tell you later. Have you found anything?”

“Possibly.” Vanya holds up a small stack of papers, which Five snatches neatly out of her hands, flipping through them.

“Property deed, that’s useful.” His brow suddenly furrows. “And details on machines that work together to produce a comprehensive electromagnetic field.”

“Jackpot,” Vanya mutters gleefully. Five nods, clearly pleased.

“This is good, but that presents a whole other host of problems. If we’re dealing with an electromagnetic field, that would mean that there are enough of these around to cover the rather extensive amount of property.” Five flips back to the property deed, scanning the pages. “We need to figure out where they could be, since they aren’t marked.”

“You work on that, and I’ll tidy up?”

At Five’s nod, Vanya moves back to the other drawers, shuffling the papers into the semi-organized piles that they had been arranged in. With any luck, either Reginald never opens these drawers, or he’ll delegate the task of organizing them to her in the coming days. At the very least, she’s glad that they found something worthwhile, otherwise the effort put into this would have been more or less for nothing—

Vanya freezes. She cocks her head carefully, eyes widening as her ars register the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. It’s far away, but the gait is familiar enough to send a shock of fear through her spine.

“Five,” she hisses urgently, casting one last glance at the drawers before hurrying to his side.

“I’m almost done,” he mutters, batting at her hands as he stares at the papers. “There were some device locations marked, and I’ve almost managed to pinpoint the most likely locations of the others—”

“Five—”

“—just need a minute and I could finish this, if you’d _let_ me focus—”

“ _Five_ ,” Vanya snaps, grabbing his arm. “He’s coming.”

Five’s head swings up, eyes wide. “I don’t hear him.”

“He’s coming up the stairs now, and he’ll be here in…30 seconds, tops.” Vanya jerks her head at the open drawers. “Trust me, I can hear it. We need to leave now.”

“You’ve gotten good,” Five murmurs, scanning the papers one last time before placing them back in the drawer. Vanya sweeps her gaze over the drawers, straightening some papers. Reginald’s footsteps draw closer.

“Five, can we _please_ go?”

“One…second.”

Vanya glances down to see Five fiddling with the lock, tongue clenched between his teeth. Vanya throw a look at the door before brushing his hand aside, locking the drawer with a swift motion and pocketing a bobby pin that must have fallen out of her pocket onto the floor.

“He’s almost here, please, Five—”

“On it,” Five hisses, wrapping a firm arm around and tugging at the space around them. Vanya’s eyes widen as she sees the door begin to open from beneath the desk. The hair at the back of her neck raises as she feels energy swirl around them. And then Reginald’s office is gone, the familiar brown walls of her room meeting her gaze as they land hard on the floor.

\---

Sir Reginald Hargreeves opens the door to his office, adjusting his monocle. The exercise had been a waste of time, Number Six is far from ready to compete against Number One in terms of strength—

He pauses as he rounds his desk, eyes narrowing. He never leaves his work out in the open when leaving the office, on principle of habit. One never knows who could be lurking about, looking for information.

And yet, there it sits; his notebook, pages spread open to the pages detailing Number Five’s history and habits.

Strange. Very strange.


	4. Chapter 4

“So, it seems that there’s some kind of machine that’s spread out across the property,” Five says, holding up his notebook with graphite-smudged fingers. He’d launched for pencil and paper the moment he and Vanya had landed in his room, muttering frantically under his breath as he sketched out notes and plans.

“They work together to form a comprehensive electromagnetic field that blankets the property. I’m willing to bet that the temp portals have something built in that disturb the field enough to break through. We don’t have firm information on where the machines would be located, but I managed to surmise where they most likely could be, based on the property layout.” Five taps the circled locations with his finger. Ben hums, shooing Five’s hand away as he brings the notebook closer to his face. Vanya peers over Ben’s shoulder, making an approving noise at Five’s handiwork.

“If this is the case, Vanya might have the best shot out of all of us in disturbing the field at multiple locations in one blow. The energy of sound waves could disturb these frequencies,” Ben says thoughtfully. “Not saying we need to do that yet, but it’s worth considering as an end solution.”

“It’s a decent theory. But we should maybe...lay low a bit,” Vanya says, sitting hesitantly back on her heels. Five tilts his head, brow raising.

“I thought you wanted to go through with this.”

“Yeah but I…It’d be…”

“Just say it,” Five sighs.

“I let Four out of the mausoleum.”

Ben and Five both balk at that, eyes widening.

“You _what_?”

“I found him and I let him out, okay? He was in there and it was cruel of Reginald to do that to him and I couldn’t leave him and it was just…” Vanya huffs out an exhale, shrugging helplessly. “I’m probably going to be under a bit of scrutiny for a while. I was afraid to tell you, but I didn’t want to—"

“Vanya, it’s okay,” Ben says quickly, catching Vanya’s hands where they gesture frantically mid-air. “We’re not upset, we just would’ve liked to know. But no harm done, we can work through this.”

“A minor setback, if anything,” Five agrees, nodding slowly. “Dad keeping a closer eye on you isn’t the end of the world. Ben and I can still investigate, but you’ll definitely need to be more careful for the time being.”

“I can do that,” Vanya says with a nod. She suddenly looks at Five, snapping her fingers. “Oh! Five, what did you find in Reginald’s notebook? You said you would tell me later.”

At her words, Five’s shoulder’s suddenly tense, gaze turning cold. “It was nothing.”

“Five?” Ben frowns, ducking his head to catch Five’s gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“I told you, it’s nothing,” he grits out, eyes narrowing as Vanya shakes her head.

“Don’t lie, you saw something that upset you. I know you did.”

Five laughs bitterly. “You can’t let anything rest, can you?” His tone of voice holds no bite, shoulders sagging as he looks up. “ Fine. I found…pages in Dad’s notebook. All about us. He’s been collecting data about us, of course, and I found the pages detailing us from the start. There was nothing there about our lives before this, our families, our home, our names. None of that. Just clinical notes on our powers and weaknesses and where we could be exploited.” He fingers clench into fists.

“I thought…I thought he would keep at least some record. To be thorough, or for security, or maybe to gloat. I don’t know. I just thought there would be _something_. I thought he would see us like people, maybe. I know he isn’t kind, but seeing how he views us, on paper, it just—” Five cuts himself off with an unsteady inhale, eyes squeezing shut. He opens his eyes after a moment, expression cool and cut-off as he looks between Ben and Vanya. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have expected anything less. I was being stupid.”

“It’s not stupid to hope, Five,” Vanya murmurs, resting her hand atop his. She shrinks back slightly at Five’s sharp glance.

“It is when I should know better than to expect life to be good.”

“ _Five_ ,” Ben hisses, leveling Five with a pointed stare. Five doesn’t look away, a familiar spark of stubborn frustration in his eyes. Vanya feels a strange sense of déjà vu watching them now, perfectly mirroring how they glared at each other silently when she first met them all those months ago.

This time it’s Ben who acquiesces, shaking his head with a sigh. He reaches forward, fingers sliding hesitantly across the back of Five’s neck before resting there. Five says nothing, watching him coldly; though, he does defrost himself enough to allow Ben to tug him closer.

“You’re allowed to wish for something better,” Ben murmurs, eyes fluttering closed. His hand finds Vanya’s as he presses his forehead gently to Five’s. “Vanya’s right, it’s not stupid to hope. We wouldn’t have gotten this far without it. And you deserve a life beyond every fucked-up thing Dad’s built around us, even if it isn’t the life you were born with. We’re going to hope for something better and we’re going to work towards it because you deserve it, because I deserve it, because Vanya deserves it. Got it?”

Five inhales shakily, pulling away just enough to nod. “Yeah. Alright.”

“Good.” Ben squeezes the back of Five’s neck before pulling away, looking between the two of them. “We’re going to do this.”

There’s a fierce glint in Ben’s eyes, like Vanya’s never seen before. Ben, the gentlest, most thoughtful of the three of them. Kindness and consideration are what guide his actions most of all; and yet this fierceness, this lively tenacity that burns quick and sure in his gaze suits him. It makes Vanya trust him, trust them both more fully than she even knew possible.

They’re going to do this. And they’re going to _win_.

\---

Vanya almost starts as she hears Reginald flip a page of his notebook in front of her. She admonishes herself internally, marking a note in the margins of a data sheet in an attempt to calm her racing heart.

Today is the day. In the next 20 minutes, Five will warp out between training to one of the possible location of a shielding machine and attempt to disable it, pocket filled with bobby pins that he’d accepted from Vanya with a scoff.

“I don’t need these.”

“You never know,” Vanya had said with a frown. Five had only shaken his head before briefly squeezing her shoulder.

The plan is that if Five manages to disable the machine according to his and Ben’s calculations (without getting caught, of course), they’ll have enough information to further their plan on disabling the machines surrounding the perimeter at an optimal time to escape. They’ve been planning this for weeks, late nights full of calculations, snapped pencils, and hissed arguments and early mornings marked by yawns hidden behind hands at breakfast and dark circles under their eyes.

There’s nothing to do now but wait. And yet, Vanya can’t help the nervous energy that makes her feet tap uncontrollably beneath the desk. Her eyes flick up to the clock almost instinctively. 1:47 PM.

As if on cue, a soft beeping noise sounds, something she’s never heard before. Vanya’s head shoots up, watching at Reginald’s eyebrows draw together.

“Sir?”

“Stay here,” Reginald says shortly, closing a drawer and rising from behind his desk before stepping out. Vanya unconsciously counts how long he’s gone, each moment stretching out into an infinite eternity. She hopes, prays desperately that Five’s done what he needed to do, that Reginald doesn’t discover him. Maybe the alarm was completely unrelated. Maybe there’s nothing to be worried about after all.

It’s been nearly 45 minutes before Vanya hears the door open behind her. She swivels around in her seat, craning her neck to look over the back of the chair.

“Is everything alright, Sir?” She watches as he seats himself carefully behind his desk, not even sparing her a glance.

“It was nothing of consequence, Number Seven.”

She’s hardly one to trust Reginald’s words blindly, but regardless, Vanya can’t shake the feeling that something’s horribly wrong. She keeps her eye out the entire day, but there’s no sign of Five. That in itself is already strange, as Five likes to flit about the manor in his free time, and Vanya can’t think of a single day she’s lived here where she didn’t at least catch a glimpse of him down the hall or disappearing into a room. She knows that it could just be that he’s busy, or tired, or they just missed each other. But in her heart, Vanya can feel it. Something is _very_ wrong.

She finishes her tasks for the day, eating dinner in the kitchen in an uneasy silence before making up her mind to check Five’s room. Hurrying up the stairs as her fingers clench against the bannister, Vanya’s heart sinks as she sees Ben walking towards her, mouth set in a firm frown. She rushes towards him, reaching out desperately.

“Have you seen Five?” She murmurs, hands clasping around Ben’s. He glances around, making sure they’re alone before pulling her down the hall and into his room.

“No, I was going to ask you. You haven’t seen him either?”

“No, oh God, something is wrong.” Vanya presses her free hand to her forehead, shaking her head. “We shouldn’t have done anything, we should have just—”

“Calm down,” Ben says firmly, squeezing her hand. “No time for regrets, we need to think this through.”

“Okay.” Vanya takes a shaky breath. And then another. “Okay. What can we do?”

“Nothing now, it’s lights out in a bit and it’s too risky to hunt around the manor after dark.” Ben frowns, lips thinning as he presses them together. “Try to think of anywhere he could be, maybe there are places you’ve been where I haven’t. I’ll see if he’s at breakfast tomorrow, and if not, I’ll let you know and we’ll both double down on searching.”

Vanya nods. “Alright. I can ask the others for help, maybe.”

“Careful,” Ben hums. “We need to be incredibly cautious. One wrong move and we’re no help to Five.”

Vanya nods. She knows that Ben is trying to stay calm and collected for her, voice steady and gaze even. But the trembling of his fingers between her own tells her the truth; he’s frightened. She doesn’t sleep well at all after that, tossing and turning and thinking of Five, worrying about where he is, what they’re going to do if they can’t find him, if he’s even _alive_ —

No. She won’t entertain that thought. She and Ben are going to find him, no matter what.

Vanya chants this mantra in her mind all through breakfast and work and lunch and her newfound free time as she walks down the hall, idly wondering if there’s enough time to poke around in the garden for any hidden doors. Vanya stiffens suddenly as she sees Ben approach her in the hallway.

“He wasn’t at breakfast or lunch. Can’t find him, ask around if it’s safe.” He doesn’t stop to look at her, words slipping out from the corner of his mouth as he calmly walks past. Vanya nods, looking straight ahead. Her heart pounds as she weaves her way throughout the house. She needs to find someone she can ask about Five whereabouts, someone she trusts won’t hurt her, won’t tell on her to Reginald. Someone like—

“Two?”

“Seven,” Two says easily, tossing and catching one of his knives as he leans against the kitchen counter. “Grace said I could help with dinner, so if you want anything out of the pantry for a snack stash, let me know.”

“Ah, thank you, but I’m alright,” Vanya says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she steels herself.

“Suit yourself.” Two catches his knife, tilting his head as he looks at her carefully. “You alright? You look…”

“Can I ask you a question?” Vanya interjects quickly. Two’s eyes narrow.

“What’s the catch?”

“Don’t tell Reginald I was asking.”

“I’m no snitch, Seven,” Two snorts. “Ask me.”

“Five’s been missing. I can’t find him, B—Six and I have been trying to look, but we don’t know…” Vanya sighs, twisting her hands together before looking Two square in the eye. “Do you know where he could have gone?”

“What, like if he jumped? Beats me,” Two says with a shrug, knife twirling between his fingers now.

“No, like if…if he did something he shouldn’t have and maybe, maybe Reginald found out,” Vanya says hesitantly. Two stiffens at that, gaze suddenly sharp.

“You’re asking me if I’d know where Dad puts us when we need to be punished.”

Vanya shrinks back, shaking her head vehemently.

“No, well—I, yes, that is what I’m asking. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to say that you are the type to get punished—I mean—"

“Alright, I get it, don’t start hyperventilating or anything.” Two rolls his eyes, sheathing the knife in his thigh holster. “Pretty sure I know where he could be, if he’s supposed to be in trouble.”

“You do?”

Two nods, beckoning her closer before disappearing out the kitchen and down the hall. Vanya follows him down a dizzying path of hallways and doors that she’d never noticed, all that way down a creaky elevator to an imposing iron door, deep within the manor.

“Seven.”

Vanya hums, gaze trained on the door in front of them as she furrows her brow. The door is heavy, almost like a blast door in structure and build. It makes her wonder what on earth could be terrifying enough to Reginald to make him sink so much into an underground bunker—

Two coughs lightly. “You’re planning something, aren’t you? Like an escape or something.”

Vanya whips around, eyes wide as she holds out her hands. “Two, I don’t—I’m not—"

Two snorts. “Save it. You’re not a good liar.”

Vanya deflates at that, prompting Two to laugh before he steps closer, expression sobering.

“Be careful, Seven.” He takes her hand, pressing something carefully into her palm. Vanya’s brow furrows as she feels the wicked sharp edge of one of his smaller, more delicate knives ghost over her skin. She closes her fingers carefully around it as he pulls away.

“Two—"

“You haven’t been here long enough to see it, maybe, but Dad…Dad isn’t a nice guy,” Two says quickly, cutting her off. “You, you’re a good person, and good people…He hurts good people. He’s going to hurt you, so you need to be c—careful. You need to be prepared.”

Vanya nods, slipping the knife into her pocket. “I know. I’ve known from the start that this wasn’t going to be easy but I…I can’t stand aside and let him do this. I can’t let him hurt the people I care for when I could do something about it. Even if puts me in danger. You understand, don’t you?”

Two tilts his head, jaw working as he thinks. “I think I’m beginning to understand how you’d feel like that.” His gaze flicks down at her pocket before meeting hers again. “Good luck. And if you find some way to get out of here, well,” Two laughs bitterly, shaking his head, “let me know?”

“Of course,” Vanya says, giving him a hesitant smile. Two nods, giving her a quick two-fingered salute.

“Good luck. If anyone asks, you and I haven’t seen each other all day.” Two throws the door an uneasy look before hurrying away, disappearing down the dark hall. Vanya turns, giving the door a considering look before moving to open it, prepared to throw all her weight into it. The door yields easier than she thought it would, opening to a dimly lit room. Vanya’s eyes widen as her gaze falls upon a familiar figure lying on a barren bed.

“Five?” Vanya rushes to his side, her hands fluttering frantically over him. Five peers up blearily at her, eyelids drooping almost involuntarily.

“V—Vanya?”

“You’re okay,” Vanya murmurs, unable to keep the relief out of her voice or the tears out of her eyes as she helps Five sit up. He frowns at her, reaching out to clumsily swipe at the tear rolling down her cheek with his thumb.

“Why are you crying?”

Vanya laughs, wrapping her arms tight around him. “I’m just so glad that we found you.”

Five hums slowly, hands resting hesitantly on her back.

“How…how long was I gone?”

“Two days.” Vanya looks up at his words, gaze sharp as she surveys his face. “Do you remember? Are you hurt? Did Reginald do something—”

“No, I’m not hurt.” Five frowns. “It’s all…hazy though. I remember Dad finding me and he…he injected me with something.” Five rubs the side of his neck almost unconsciously, and Vanya can see the tiny pinprick against his skin, already faint with time.

“And you can’t quite remember anything else?”

“Yeah. Time has been passing…oddly here. And I’ve just felt so tired.”

“Did Three—"

“No. No, I remember enough for it not to be a rumor,” Five says quickly, gaze more alert as he looks at Vanya. She nods, glancing around at the desolate bunker room before shivering.

“We should get out of here. Can you warp us out? I could help you walk, but we’d probably get caught—”

Vanya freezes as she turns to look at Five, eyes catching on his fists extended in front of him. A faint halo of blue energy surrounds his hand, weakly pulsing as Five’s tightens his grip, jaw clenching.

“Five?”

“I can’t—It’s like my abilities are being blocked,” Five hisses, hunching over as he stares at his fists, as though willing the space in front of him tear open. “I can almost feel it, but it’s enough to jump.”

Vanya’s eyes widen. “The injection, do you think—”

“Of _course_. Bastard,” Five spits acidly, lifting his hand to rub at his neck. “No wonder everything feels so strange, it’s messing with my sense of time and space, somehow. I can still…I can still feel everything, how the space _should_ be moving with my abilities, but it’s like I’m looking at it through frosted glass. Everything’s so blurry and faint.”

Vanya reaches out, covering her hand with his. “We can still get you out of here. We’ll just need to be more careful.”

Five’s head snaps up. “We can’t,” he says shortly, pulling his hand away. Vanya’s mouth falls open.

“What?”

“This is…” Five looks down at his hands, clenching his fingers desperately. “If Dad’s found a way to block our powers, everything’s changed. We can’t risk letting me out.”

“You can’t be serious,” Vanya says, brows furrowing as Five nods.

“I am _absolutely_ serious. We haven’t figured out how to escape yet, and if Dad knows we’re working together, he’s going to keep us both locked up and then Ben’s on his own. Even worse, Dad could try to _kill_ you. If you just leave me here and act normally, you and Ben still have a chance—"

“I’m not going to leave you behind!”

“You don’t understand, Vanya,” Five snaps, turning to grab her arms. “You _need_ to leave me here. I can handle this, and when Dad lets me out, we’ll regroup.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Vanya says lowly, eyes narrowed.

“He will.” Five inhales unsteadily. “He _has_ to.”

“That’s not enough.” Vanya shakes herself out of his grip, rising and stepping away. “I’m not going to just leave you. You’re here because of our plan, and we’re not gonna abandon you because of that. We’re sticking with you, no matter what.”

“Vanya—”

“Five.” Vanya holds her hand up, tone cold but firm. “I’m going to leave the doors open, and I’m going to go talk to Reginald. I’m sorry I won’t be able to walk you back your room, but you should do it without me.”

Five’s eyes widen as he reaches out, stumbling as he attempts to stand. “Vanya, don’t you dare try something—"

“Try something? I’m not _trying_ anything; I’m going to _do_ something for once. I’ve had enough of seeing you get abused by the person you call a father. All of you. I can’t just watch without doing anything anymore. I need to put a stop to this.”

Five grits his teeth, clutching his head as he braces himself against the bed. “What are you even gonna do?”

“I don’t know.” Vanya shrugs helplessly. “But I have to do something.”

“Vanya—"

“I’ll be back,” she says softly, tilting her head before smiling at Five. “And if I don’t come back, it’ll be okay.”

She turns on her heel, hurrying down the hall as she hears Five growl angrily behind her. He’s in no state to chase her, but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t hurry. The determination that courses through her veins now may be strong enough to push her to Reginald’s office, but there’s no telling how far it’ll take her in his presence.

_What are you even gonna do?_

Five’s words echo in her head, and she ponders them as she travels up the elevator and through hallways. It’s a good question, given that she’s not normally in the habit of charging headfirst into things without a plan, or at least having thought about what to do. But this is different. There are things that don’t deserve a plan. Cruelty like Reginald’s doesn’t deserve rationality, a well-thought out argument, or any room for sympathy. No, men like Reginald only deserve the pure devastation that emotions can bring.

Vanya can feel her fingers curling, the possibility that she might be able to let go of the ironclad controls she’s been building all these months realizing itself. Beneath her skin, there’s a buzz of anticipation, and she has to grit her teeth to keep the energy from siphoning off her fingers at the rhythmic noise of her heartbeat in her ears. She has to keep it in control. And once she sees Reginald, she can decide whether to let go or not.

_What if you kill him?_

A voice that sounds like Ben’s speaks at the back of her mind, and Vanya hums to herself at that, flexing her fingers as she thinks. It’s a valid question. As much as she’s practiced controlling her abilities, her expertise is limited to just that; control. There’s no telling what could happen if she lets loose.

But that’s the point of this, isn’t? The point is not kindness or delicacy or control. It’s justice, damnation and fury all drawn together for the sake of love. And she knows that this _is_ love she feels for Ben and Five and Two and Four (and maybe even One and Three, because even they deserve love; even they deserve not to be treated as they are now), all wrapped up in a heady rage that boils her blood.

It’s all she has. But it’s a powerful defense to bring to the table, and Vanya knows that it’s going to carry her as far as she needs it to.

The door to Reginald’s office swings open, and for once, he looks up from his book in her presence.

“Number Seven—”

“No. My _name_ is Vanya.” She gives him a hard glare, and at the widening of Reginald’s eyes, she knows that the irises of her eyes have bled themselves of color, as they have a couple of times around Ben and Five.

Vanya steps forward, taking a deep breath as she feels out the sounds of the room, the familiar ticking of the clock, Reginald’s unsteady breathing, her own pounding heartbeat. She categorizes them before tightening her grip around the waves of noise, translating it into enough latent energy that the hair on the back of her neck begins to stand on end.

“I’ve had enough of this. Of you,” Vanya hisses. “Answering to you when you mistreat everyone here at the Academy. It’s mean and wrong and I’m _done_ with it.”

“It is the purpose of the Academy to gather data. There is no time for kindness,” Reginald says, almost distracted as he watches things begin to float unsteadily in the air, hovering a few feet above where they normally sit.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s for science or not! There’s no room for cruelty like yours,” Vanya snarls, stepping closer. “You take advantage of the Umbrella Academy members and use them for your own purpose without a thought to their wellbeing beyond your experiments. That isn’t science, that’s _abuse_.”

Reginald gives her a sharp look at that, and if she wasn’t so high off the power swirling in the air, Vanya knows she would have flinched.

“Have you considered that I am aware of these things and I have no reason to change?”

“You don’t have a reason because you haven’t met anything that could make you change.” Vanya tilts her head, a smile curling at the corner of her lips. She can feel her feet lifting from the ground as she hovers just high enough to look down at Reginald, to put him in his place. “But I think I can change that. Change _you_.”

The air thickens at her words, almost suffocating as a high-pitched ringing whines around them. Things begin to rattle, delicately wrought pieces of glass beginning to crack and metal beginning to bend. Vanya feels her teeth rattle as energy courses under her skin. This feeling of power is new, something heavier that darkens her blood and makes it sing with unfamiliar desire.

She wants to hurt Reginald; she wants to tear him _apart_. She’s never felt this way before and it’s almost frightening to feel such uncharacteristic violence humming deep in her bones, awakened from a 17-year slumber. But there’s something about it that feels right. In the face of someone she’s never felt more hate for, this ferocity feels like tapping into a baser part of herself, the part that only cares if someone is a friend or an enemy. Reginald is an enemy. She’s allowed to hurt him, and that fact is _exhilarating_.

“You’re hesitating. You don’t have what it takes to change me.”

Vanya snarls at him, slashing her hand through the air. The book cabinet’s glass panels suddenly explode, glass shooting out to cut and pierce Reginald with glee. She watches with grim satisfaction as Reginald recoils, blood seeping through his fingers where he clutches the side of his face.

“You’re wrong.”

Reginald looks up, a glint of something unfamiliar in his eyes. “That I am not. You are weak, Number Seven. And you won’t kill me.”

Vanya inhales, drawing her hand back in fury. The sounds in the air come at her beck and call, swirling in a hair-raising electric force of power in her palm that she prepares to bring down with all her might upon Reginald—

Something suddenly grabs Vanya’s ankle, yanking her from the air. Vanya screams as she hits the ground hard. Her vision blurs as her ears ring, the power flowing through the air fading in an instant. She pushes herself up on her elbows unsteadily, trying desperately to stand. But her head throbs insistently, the pain from the fall amplifying the sound waves piercing her skull. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears, and the sound tries to coalesce into power under Vanya’s fingertips. But Vanya can’t steady herself enough to do so, control shattered from pushing too far.

Vanya clutches her head, trying to struggle as she feels a pair of arms grip her tight, holding her in place. She glances to the size, recognizing the uniform. Number One.

“I am no fool, Number Seven,” Reginald says, and Vanya turns, trying to shy away from where he stands above her. “I know what you are.”

The cold press of a needle to her neck prompts a gasp to fall from her lips, unable to prepare herself for the sting of pain as the sharp metal tip pierces her skin. In an instant, Vanya can feel there’s something terribly, _horribly_ wrong. Her skin prickles as the energy in her head and under her skin begins to disappear, almost as though being pushed behind a soundproof barrier. The sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears fading out of her awareness, sound no longer important as Vanya feels her eyelids drooping, control over her body quickly fading.

“Take her to the bunker,” he says. Vanya’s head lolls to the side, catching a glimpse Number One’s face looming impassively over her.

And then it all goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me to my brain: now, it’s finals season, so you need to focus on schoolwork. don’t work on ch 4  
> my brain: got it  
> me:  
> my brain:  
> my brain: anyways here’s inspo for ch4 :))))  
> me: …alright then!

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [ tumblr](https://shizuoi.tumblr.com/) if you want to chat more about 567 or tua!


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